


Unscheduled

by lockheed_london



Series: Unexpected [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockheed_london/pseuds/lockheed_london
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <i>Unexpected</i>, the fill for <a href="http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=8640533#cmt8640533">this prompt</a> at the <a href="http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/">Cabin Pressure prompt meme</a> on Dreamwidth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unscheduled

Later, Douglas would reflect that it took him a long time to realise what was happening. Inexcusably long, really; at his age he ought to have known better.

The signs were subtle. The first indication came when they were having sex one evening, when Douglas had slid down the bed to lavish some attention on Martin’s nipples – preparatory to sucking him off – but instead of sighing and arching against him, Martin flinched away and said ‘Ow.’

Douglas lifted his head. ‘Everything okay? I thought you liked that.’

‘I do, usually.’ Martin’s hands had fluttered up to flatten protectively over his chest, and he slowly took them away. ‘I’m just a bit sore from the other night, that’s all.’

Douglas had taken this at face value, given that they had indeed had an enthusiastic session of shagging just a couple of nights previously, and gentled his touch until Martin relaxed.

The second clue ought to have been when Martin began _eating_. Thanks to the demands of the van job he was always hungry and Douglas – who had all but stopped cooking once Helena left, since it seemed like a lot of hassle for just one person – would invite him over for heartier meals than Martin’s usual pasta or beans on toast. It gave him a deep, visceral pleasure to see Martin sated and well-fed, and so it certainly wasn’t a problem when Martin’s appetite apparently doubled. But it was, however, unusual, and so when Martin was back in Douglas’ kitchen making toast and jam just a couple of hours after eating a considerable portion of shepherd’s pie, Douglas followed him and leaned against the doorframe as he watched.

‘I think your legs must be hollow,’ he remarked. ‘I’m still full from dinner; I don’t know where you’re putting it.’

‘Neither do I,’ Martin said, buttering a second piece of toast. ‘I suppose I’ve been busy, though. It must be that.’

‘Mmm,’ Douglas said. There was something nagging at the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it; a few moments’ more thought would probably have done it, but just at that moment Martin stopped chewing and looked at the bread, butter and jam spread out around him, shifting self-consciously.

‘I can chip in towards groceries if you want,’ he said, in an awkward rush. ‘I know I’ve been round here a lot, and–’

‘Oh hush.’ Douglas waved his offer away impatiently. ‘Of course not, it’s fine. I was just wondering if everything was okay with your health.’

Martin shrugged, putting the lid back on the jam. He was obviously trying to appear casual but Douglas didn’t miss how he dabbed at the stray crumbs with a finger to clean them up, and made a mental note to suggest tea and biscuits before bed.

‘I feel fine,’ Martin said. ‘I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.’

It wasn’t just toast in the evenings either. It was most of the cheese tray on the next flight – since discovering that Martin was actually an omega rather than a fellow alpha then Douglas’ heart hadn’t really been in their amicable squabbles over it – and the free bread at the restaurant where they went for dinner that evening, as well as a starter before the main course.

Even when Martin started to be oddly clingy it didn’t set off any mental alarms. Whether due to his upbringing or having to pose as an alpha for so long, Martin wasn’t anything like as tactile or physically affectionate as the previous omegas Douglas had been with, and so when Martin started cuddling into his side on the sofa in the evenings and snuggling close in bed at night – silently asking to be held while he fell asleep – Douglas’ only reaction was to conceal how much he liked this temporary change, lest Martin feel that his usual wasn’t good enough. And Martin slept so _deeply_ ; he would curl up in Douglas’ arms at night and not stir until Douglas nudged him the following morning, only moving to sleepily paw at the covers that Douglas pulled over him, pushing them away with a mumble of being too hot.

Douglas also found himself being more tactile with Martin, and more solicitous. At first, when he caught himself doing it, he assumed that it was a response to Martin’s increased proximity. Afterwards, however, in hindsight, he felt like an idiot.

***

The changes in behaviour and appetite only went on for about a week before the penny dropped. It was on a long flight from southern Italy back to Fitton; they’d made the outbound flight that morning and since it was so short they were coming straight back again. Douglas had gone to use the toilet and had stopped to talk to Arthur in the galley on his way back, consequently he’d been away from Martin for a good fifteen minutes before returning to the flight deck, long enough that re-entering it was a bit like seeing and smelling Martin for the first time. Now that Martin had stopped using the horrible alpha-scented body wash he used to buy then his scent was irresistible, and Douglas had developed the habit of inhaling deeply whenever he was near Martin. He did so now, but almost instantly his skin tingled and all his senses seemed to sharpen, and at once he knew himself for an idiot.

Martin at least had an excuse, since he’d only recently had his first heat since he was nineteen and so was doubtless unfamiliar with the behavioural changes that led up to them, but Douglas had seen this exact same set of behaviours previously with his various partners. It was inexcusable that it had taken him this long to catch on: Martin’s scent had the extra depth to it that signalled an omega who was only a few days away from going into heat. Currently it wasn’t too strong, barely a hint of pheromones, but Douglas knew it would get stronger over the next few days.

As he sat down he said lightly ‘Well then. We need to book a few days off next week, do we?’

Martin didn’t nod his agreement, or look flustered, two responses for which Douglas had been prepared. Instead he frowned questioningly at Douglas. ‘Do we? What for?’

Douglas blinked. ‘Because you… you’re…’ At Martin’s impatient gesture, indicating his complete lack of understanding, Douglas said bluntly ‘Because you’re going to be in heat.’

‘Douglas!’ Martin snapped. _Now_ he was flushed, his cheeks scarlet. ‘For God’s sake, we’re working.’

‘Of course,’ Douglas said, disquiet coiling low in his belly as Martin fussed needlessly with the flight deck controls. ‘My apologies.’

Martin didn’t respond, and Douglas turned his attention back to the distant horizon and considered. Martin’s last heat had been roughly four weeks ago; his next one wasn’t due for another four weeks but he’d mentioned that he’d recently changed his brand of suppressants, which was a not-uncommon trigger for hormone fluctuations in omegas as their bodies adjusted. Nevertheless Douglas probably ought to have known better than to bring it up at work, since Martin was almost rabidly fierce about keeping their personal lives separate from work.

He bided his time, but now that the idea was in his head he couldn’t let go of it and he saw enough over the course of the flight to back up his theory. Martin devoured the food that Arthur brought them, and Douglas even caught Arthur – another alpha, unlikely as it would seem – hovering around Martin, and fetching him extra coffee and biscuits when he mentioned still feeling peckish.

Douglas rolled his eyes.

Arthur would never dream of trying to steal an alpha’s omega, much less encroach on Douglas’ territory; it was just his luck to be shut away on a flight with two idiots who were blind to their own instincts.

When they finally arrived back into Fitton, Douglas waited until they were alone in the portacabin before nodding towards the wall chart and saying ‘Do you want to do it, or shall I?’

‘There’s nothing to do,’ Martin said, colour high in his cheeks.

Douglas frowned slightly, sensing trouble.

‘Clearly there _is_ ,’ he said, slowly but firmly, ‘since you’re–’

‘Shut up,’ Martin hissed. ‘I refuse to discuss this here.’

Douglas held his tongue. He stayed coolly silent throughout the paperwork, and the debriefing with Carolyn (the way her nose twitched and she stared narrowly at Martin would have confirmed Douglas’ suspicions, had he required confirmation, and he suspected that she wouldn’t be contacting them for the coming several days), and the drive back to his flat. Martin had been spending more time there than in his own student house lately, and Douglas was relieved when Martin didn’t insist on being taken there instead. Given his recent deduction, he now didn’t feel comfortable letting Martin out of his sight.

The moment Douglas closed the front door behind them, Martin rounded on him.

‘You’re wrong,’ he said instantly. ‘I’m not. I had one just four weeks ago, and everyone knows that it only happens every other month.’

‘True,’ Douglas said carefully, his instincts nagging at him for agitating an omega who was a few days away from heat. ‘But I think you’re about to have another one.’

‘No.’ Martin shook his head vigorously. ‘I can’t be, it’s not possible.’

‘You told me that you’d changed your brand of suppressants a few weeks before your last heat,’ Douglas said. ‘It’s not that unusual for it to throw your hormones out while you adjust.’

‘But the chances of that are _tiny_ ,’ Martin all but wailed. ‘It’s not… _surely_ it can’t be–’

‘Increased appetite.’ Douglas ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke. ‘Increased temperature – don’t think I haven’t noticed that all the covers end up on my side of the bed by morning – increased desire for proximity, tiredness, tenderness in your nipples–’

‘Fuck off,’ Martin spat at him, fists bunching. ‘I’m not fucking _pregnant_.’

Douglas bit his lip.

‘I know you’re not,’ he said, deliberately keeping his tone calm in the hope that it would defuse the tension in the air. ‘But if you can think of anything else that fits the symptoms, then–’

‘They’re not _symptoms_ ,’ Martin snapped. ‘I’ve just been working hard lately, so I’m tired and hungry a lot of the time. I apologise if that’s a problem.’

‘Oh Christ.’ Douglas rubbed a palm over wearily over his face. God knew he hadn’t expected Martin to be pleased when he pointed this out, but he hadn’t expected him to be _this_ annoyed. ‘Of course it’s not a problem. For God’s sake, just… Look, I know that the timing isn’t great on this but these things happen, it’s just–’

‘You’re wrong,’ Martin cut across him. ‘No, you’re wrong, that’s all there is to it.’

Martin tugged at his shirt cuffs – a habit when he was nervous – and Douglas started towards him, wanting only to calm him, but Martin turned away.

‘I ought to go,’ he said stiffly, and Douglas clenched his fists against the desire to grab him and pull him close.

‘Don’t,’ he said instead. ‘Please. Look, we’re both tired, and hungry. Why don’t you go and take a shower, and then we’ll have dinner.’

For a long moment Martin hesitated, but when Douglas put a tentative hand on his back he leaned into it briefly before muttering ‘Okay.’

After the shower Martin was still terse and uncommunicative, but at least seemed slightly more relaxed for having had the chance to shower the stale, recycled plane air off himself. All the books Douglas had read – both medical and otherwise – warned against upsetting omegas when their heat was due and so, in a fit of guilt, he made Martin’s favourite for dinner. Martin perked up when he saw what Douglas was making, even going so far as to exchange friendly banter with him as they cooked, and put away a generous portion before Douglas was two-thirds of the way through his own plate. But when he made to get up to get seconds he caught Douglas’ eye and visibly subsided, sinking back into his chair and pushing his empty plate away from him.

‘Oh for God’s sake, Martin,’ Douglas said, brusque in his dislike of seeing Martin so subdued. ‘Whatever the cause, if you’re hungry then you should eat. Starving yourself isn’t going to solve anything.’

Slowly, Martin got up to take seconds and then brought it back to the table to eat in quick, snatched mouthfuls, like an animal who feared it would be taken away from them. Douglas hadn’t seen Martin eat like that since the early days when he had first started coming over here, and was obviously unused to good, home-made meals that weren’t toast, and the resurgence of his old habit was slightly unsettling.

Even after they’d both finished and had moved to the sofa to watch TV, Martin had started to tuck himself against Douglas’ side – as he had done for the past few evenings – before catching himself and, self-consciously, taking his usual seat further along the sofa and not touching Douglas.

Douglas fought the urge to cover his face with his hands and groan in despair. The days leading up to a heat were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties. It was meant to be treated as an affirmation of the bond, with alphas getting the chance to dote on their omegas and the omegas resting and conserving themselves for the days ahead. Certainly Helena had enjoyed them; she’d relished the extra attention and they’d typically spent the evenings preceding it cuddled up together on the sofa, watching TV or talking or just reading in silence, but taking comfort from the increased proximity.

But then again, Douglas mused, looking at Martin silently drinking his tea at a polite distance from him, Helena had been completely comfortable in her gender, whereas Martin had never seen it as anything but an impediment holding him back from his goals. Small wonder he tried to fight it.

‘I’m going to bed,’ Martin muttered, during an advert break. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Goodnight, then,’ Douglas said mildly. The past few nights had seen Martin all but asleep on Douglas’ shoulder by the time Douglas roused him to get them both to bed, but not tonight. He had to bite his cheek against the instinct to follow Martin, to curl himself around Martin until he fell asleep, but Martin left the room without a backward glance and Douglas pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

When he gave into his impulse and followed Martin to bed, barely half an hour later, he found Martin fast asleep and bundled defiantly in the duvet, his hairline dark with sweat.

‘Oh _Martin_ ,’ he sighed, coaxing the duvet away from him and pulling it back to expose Martin’s sweat-damp skin to the cool air. Martin rolled onto his back, still sleeping, and Douglas went to open the window to the night air while he got ready for bed.

***

The next morning Douglas awoke with Martin pressed up against him. He’d nudged Martin across to the other side of the bed the previous night, giving in to the impulse to lie between Martin and the door, and Martin had gone easily, not even stirring when Douglas tucked himself alongside him. Now Douglas found that at some point during the night Martin had turned over and latched onto him, as he was lying with his head pillowed on Douglas’ shoulder and one hand splayed over Douglas’ ribs. Douglas bent his head to press a soft kiss to Martin’s hair, taking in the sleep-warm smell of him.

Free from the horrible artificial perfume of the alpha-scented shower gel that Martin used to use, he smelled wonderful even at the best of times but now… Douglas inhaled deeply and almost groaned as he felt his half-hard cock stir. He didn’t know how on earth Martin expected to convince people he wasn’t going into heat when he smelled like _that_. Rich, and luscious, and tempting… Douglas gave it another day, two at most, before it would start properly and Martin’s arguments against it would be rendered null and void. But for now he stayed silent and only stroked the back of Martin’s head, wanting him to sleep as long as possible.

Eventually Martin stirred, fingers flexing and gripping against Douglas’ ribs, and Douglas pushed his hair back off his forehead, tacky with sleep-sweat.

‘Morning,’ he said softly and Martin grunted in response, rubbing his face against Douglas’ shoulder.

Douglas worked his fingers gently through Martin’s curls. ‘Would you like breakfast?’

He was thinking of coffee and bacon sandwiches – with perhaps an extra round for Martin, the way his appetite had been lately – but Martin groaned and shook his head no.

‘Wha’ time ‘s it?’ he slurred, and Douglas glanced over to the clock-radio.

‘Eight-thirty,’ he said. ‘But take your time, there’s no rush.’

If Martin wasn’t hungry then perhaps Douglas could persuade him into a quiet day on the sofa, maybe with a gentle stroll through the park if the weather held, but Martin groaned against and began to push himself up into a sitting position.

Douglas frowned, letting him go reluctantly. ‘What is it?’

‘Got a van job,’ Martin said, blinking heavily. ‘In an hour.’

Douglas narrowed his eyes at him. ‘You scheduled a van job. For _today_.’

Martin nodded, closing his eyes and yawning, and when he opened them and saw Douglas’ expression he said defensively ‘Of course I scheduled one for today. We’re not flying, and it happens to be the only job for which I earn any money.’

‘I know that,’ Douglas said, resting a hand on Martin’s thigh. ‘But, today of all days, don’t you think you ought to be taking it easy?’

Martin’s face clouded, and he snapped ‘For God’s sake, don’t start that again.’

‘I only–’ Douglas began but it was too late, Martin was climbing over him and scrambling out of bed to disappear towards the bathroom, and Douglas flopped back onto the mattress and growled ‘ _Fuck_ ,’ at the ceiling.

He’d never met an omega like Martin, not only in his total and utter self-sufficiency and refusal to depend on anyone, but also in his sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. No wonder he’d been able to pass as an alpha for so long.

Douglas went through the bathroom when Martin was finished, and when he came out he found Martin in the kitchen, fully-dressed and trying to force down a cup of tea and a single piece of toast.

‘Still not hungry?’ he asked, and Martin’s eyes slid away from his as he muttered ‘Not really, no. Bit queasy.’

‘Then you shouldn’t force yourself to eat,’ Douglas said, unsure whether to laugh or groan despairingly at Martin’s mulish refusal to acknowledge that loss of appetite and vague nausea were the very early stage of an omega’s body preparing itself to go into heat. The one consolation was that such a stage typically lasted twelve to eighteen hours, depending on the individual, so heat wasn’t imminent.

‘Martin,’ Douglas began, but Martin glared at him and Douglas gave it up.

‘Let me come with you,’ he said instead.

‘What?’

‘Let me come with you,’ Douglas repeated.

Martin looked baffled. ‘Why?’

_Because as tempting as you smell right now, I haven’t a notion of letting you out alone,_ Douglas didn’t say. Instead he shrugged.

‘I don’t have any plans for today,’ he said. ‘Call it a generous impulse. After all, it’s always useful to have someone owe you a colossal favour.’

Martin rolled his eyes but he smiled, the first _real_ smile that Douglas had seen in almost 24 hours, and agreed.

***

Looking back, Douglas would admit that it was a stupid idea, and that he ought to have sabotaged Martin’s van before letting the job go ahead. The clients were a young alpha and omega couple who were moving in together, and who were vibrant with excitement at the idea. However their bright-eyed enthusiasm only lasted until Martin got close enough to introduce himself and Douglas, whereupon the omega gave Douglas a look of alarm and the alpha one of outraged disapproval.

_This wasn’t my idea!_ Douglas wanted to shout at them. _My omega is a bloody fool who doesn’t care tuppence about his own health. Do you think I_ wanted _him to come out to work in such a state?_

But he only bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile and said ‘Shall we get on with it, then?’

The job only lasted a few hours but it felt like longer. The young omega male – Stephen – refused to be alone with Douglas and would barely address two words to him, instead spending most of his time trying to draw Martin off to one side and make him sit down. His alpha, Rachael, spent the whole time glaring at Douglas as though he had said something to personally offend her, and when she wasn’t shooting him sour looks she was so cooing and solicitous towards Martin that Douglas wanted to snarl at her in a fit of possessiveness.

‘Christ,’ Martin said, during a rare moment when it was just the two of them. He dragged the back of his wrist across his sweaty forehead. ‘They keep looking at me like I’m a bloody leper. You’d think they’d never seen an omega doing manual work before.’

_Never one that was only half a day away from going into heat, I imagine,_ Douglas wanted to retort. He held his tongue. Martin was clearly already paying for his stubbornness; he was pale and dishevelled, and several times Douglas had grabbed a heavy box out of his hands before he dropped it or stumbled under its weight.

It would be so much easier if he was one of those alphas who didn’t give a toss what his omega wanted but cared only about what they needed: that way he’d be able to call this job off, bundle Martin into the van, and drive home without a single pang of conscience. But he’d never been able to bear seeing his partners unhappy, and so he gritted his teeth and lugged boxes of what felt like rocks, and tolerated Rachael loudly suggesting to a flushed and embarrassed Martin that perhaps he ought to sit down with a cup of tea while she and Douglas finished off.

At last they were done and on their way home, after a nerve-wracking fifteen minutes where the van had refused to start. The idea of waiting indoors with Rachael and Stephen while a tow truck arrived had Douglas all but diving under the bonnet and dredging up every bit of car mechanics he knew, _willing_ the ancient thing to start until the engine sputtered to life. In Martin’s pocket was thirty quid for their three hours’ work, plus a generous tip that Douglas suspected was motivated by Martin’s pale and unhealthy look.

Martin had wearily handed him the keys when Douglas asked for them, and now he drove with infinite care – the only thing worse than being stuck in the flat with Rachael and Stephen would be getting stranded by the side of the road.

‘I’ll be lucky if they don’t report me for domestic abuse,’ Douglas muttered, half to himself, checking the mirror and wondering whether he dared overtake the car in front. ‘Letting you come out to work in such a state.’

Martin was slumped wearily in the passenger seat but at this his temper flared.

‘You’re not _letting_ me do anything,’ he snarled. ‘You’re not my keeper; I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

‘I know,’ Douglas said, glancing over at him. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

He put a hand briefly on Martin’s leg, but took it back again when Martin twitched away.

Back at his flat, the sofa had never looked so good.

‘Is that it?’ Douglas asked, collapsing onto it with a groan. ‘Please tell me you don’t have anything else scheduled.’

‘That’s it,’ Martin said and, when Douglas held out a hand, condescended to take it and twine their fingers together before sitting next to Douglas and leaning heavily against him.

It was the first conscious act of soliciting his touch that Martin had demonstrated in over a day, and Douglas wrapped an arm around his shoulders and settled him more comfortably.

‘Lunch?’ Douglas offered. He was ravenous, but Martin only made a vague noise.

‘Suppose we ought to.’

But he made no move to let Douglas up to deal with it, and Douglas turned his head to press his mouth to Martin’s sweaty, rumpled hair.

‘In a moment, then,’ he said, watching Martin’s eyelids slide shut.

***

In fact it was much longer than a moment before Douglas stirred himself from under Martin, and then it was only to make some quick sandwiches and bring them back to Martin on the sofa. Martin picked at his dispiritedly, and Douglas frowned to himself. He’d never seen or heard of an omega so dejected in the run-up to their heat; Martin was starting to look less defiant and more depressed, and eventually Douglas took his half-deconstructed sandwiches off him and coaxed Martin into the bedroom so Douglas could spread him out on the bed to give him a massage.

Technically this was what they should have been doing for the past forty-eight hours – touching each other, with Douglas ensuring that his omega was relaxed and content in the days preceding his heat – but he hadn’t wanted to push Martin when he was so obviously uncomfortable with the idea. Now he took the chance to put his hands all over him, working the tension out of his muscles, and when he nudged Martin to roll over onto his back then Martin’s eyelids were heavy with contentment. Douglas bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a smile. However much Martin denied what was happening it seemed that his body, at least, knew what it needed, and Douglas repeated the massage on his front, gentling his hands over Martin’s abdomen when Martin tensed slightly in discomfort.

Douglas couldn’t deny that this was easing a deep-seated need inside him also; it had felt fundamentally _wrong_ to ignore the change in Martin’s scent and carry on treating him just as normal, as though Douglas didn’t know what was coming.

Martin smiled up at him in lazy pleasure, and Douglas couldn’t help responding in kind.

‘Can I make a request,’ he murmured, and Martin made an agreeable noise.

‘Let’s take a shower,’ Douglas continued, stroking his hands meditatively over Martin’s warm, oil-slick skin, ‘and wash this off you. And then I’d like to watch a film; I think we’ve both had quite enough exertion for the day. Alright?’

Martin’s lazy pliancy lasted through the shower and the first half of the film, letting Douglas manhandle him without protest and wrapping himself around Douglas on the sofa. However halfway through the film he started to shift, tension blooming in him, and finally disappeared off towards the bathroom. Douglas sighed. This was one of the less pleasant aspects of omega biology, and when Martin came out, half an hour later, he looked wan and slightly sweaty.

There wasn’t much Douglas could do, beyond squeezing his shoulder sympathetically, and pulling him in for a hug, and making cups of tea that Martin sipped at. Martin couldn’t settle for the rest of the afternoon, and it was only when it was well and truly evening that the worst of it seemed to be past. By then, however, all the good work of Douglas’ massage had been undone and Martin looked tense and anxious.

‘I’m going to take a shower and go to bed,’ Martin said, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, where Douglas was making himself scrambled eggs for supper. ‘I’m tired.’

It was true that he looked exhausted, and Douglas turned off the heat under the pan and held out a hand to him.

‘Come here,’ he requested softly and, when Martin came to him, drew him into a hug.

‘I can’t stand seeing you so miserable,’ he said, rubbing his hand up and down Martin’s spine as Martin’s forehead came to rest on his shoulder. ‘Talk to me. You can’t honestly pretend that you don’t know what’s happening. Is it really so terrible as all that? I thought your last one was okay.’

When Martin spoke into Douglas’ shoulder, his voice was fretful.

‘I didn’t think it was going to happen again so soon. I’m not _ready_ for it to happen again; this is twice in four weeks. How can Carolyn keep me on, knowing that I’m going to have to take all this time every month, and–’

‘Shush,’ Douglas said, unable to listen to Martin getting increasingly worked up. ‘Hush now, you’re worrying over nothing. Firstly, it’s not uncommon for omegas to have slightly irregular cycles when they change medication, so I would assume that this is a one-off occurrence and not that it’s going to happen every month. Once your body gets used to your new suppressants then I don’t know any reason why it won’t end up being every other month and that, I assure you, is a perfectly acceptable amount of time to take off.’

Martin made a doubtful noise and Douglas insisted ‘It’s true. All alphas get a few days’ leave when their omegas are in heat; no-one would dream of implying that they’re expected to spend that time apart, and Carolyn knows this as well as I do. So you see if you were an alpha then it would be exactly the same, once you’d settled down with an omega. You’d still be requesting a few days’ leave every other month, and nothing would be different. Alright?’

There was a long pause, but eventually Martin nodded wordlessly.

‘Good.’ Douglas tightened his arms around Martin. ‘As for the rest: remember you’re safe here. Nothing’s going to happen to you, and no-one’s going to hurt you.&rsquo

‘I know.’ Martin’s voice was muffled, and his fists clutched handfuls of Douglas’ T-shirt.

‘Alright then.’ Douglas nudged Martin’s chin up for a kiss, and added ‘You know, you’re usually so competent and efficient that I forget that this is one area where you don’t have a lot of experience.’

As he had hoped it would, the praise made Martin flush, pleased.

‘Go on, go to bed,’ Douglas said. ‘I’ll come and join you in a moment.’

When Douglas got to bed Martin was already asleep, stretched out naked on his back with one hand flung up over his head to rest on the pillow. The covers were kicked down around his knees, and Douglas took a moment to look at his musculature. A few months of eating properly had made him fill out a bit; he would never be bulky but now there was at least a bit more flesh on his bones.

Martin stirred restlessly, but when Douglas climbed into bed Martin turned towards him in his sleep, settling when Douglas drew him close and kissed his forehead. Douglas wound an arm around Martin’s back and hugged him, closing his eyes. Martin was so hot against him that covers seemed unnecessary, and Douglas drifted off to sleep with them tangled around his hips.

***

It started sometime in the early hours, soft and quiet as an indrawn breath. Douglas opened his eyes in the grey, pre-dawn light, unsure what had woken him until he took a breath. Martin smelled achingly attractive at that moment, his scent proclaiming that here was an omega who needed desperately to be touched and pleasured, and Douglas buried his nose and mouth in Martin’s hair as he took another breath.

Douglas didn’t even need to lift the covers to check if he was right; Martin had turned over in the night so his back was against Douglas’ chest, and as Douglas pressed closer to him he could feel smears of fluid on the fronts of his thighs, where Martin had started leaking. Douglas groaned softly as his cock twitched and started to fill; Martin stirred restlessly and Douglas murmured ‘Shh, no, sleep,’ breathing the words softly against Martin’s hair. Martin ought to stay asleep as long as possible, because God knew he’d be glad of his rest in the days that came.

The next time Douglas woke it was full daylight, and the space next to him in the bed was empty. He sat up in a panic, his senses flying wide, and when he heard noises from the kitchen he sagged back down in relief. Martin’s side of the bed smelled unbearably good, and Douglas rolled over to bury his face in Martin’s pillow and inhale. There was a wet patch on the sheets, where Martin had presumable been lying on his back after heat had started, and Douglas growled under his breath as his cock dragged against the damp cotton.

What on earth was Martin doing up? Any sensible omega would have woken him as soon as they awoke, hungry for his touch, but not Martin. He would apparently prefer to fight his body’s needs for as long as he possibly could, and as Douglas flung back the covers and grabbed his dressing gown he reflected again that he’d never in his life met such a stubborn, stiff-necked omega as Martin.

Following the source of the noise he found Martin in the kitchen, but at the sight of him all Douglas’ annoyance evaporated. Martin obviously hadn’t been up for long: the cafetiere was sitting on the counter in front of him with water droplets still clinging to the outside, and the packet of coffee was open but none had been tipped into the cafetiere. Martin was leaning forward, his hands white-knuckled on the edge of the bench and his head hanging between his braced arms, his bare sides heaving as he gulped for breath. The kettle was just rumbling to the boil on the counter next to him, and it clicked off as Douglas drew closer to him.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked gently.

Martin’s shoulders hunched a little at the sound of his voice, and Douglas immediately reached out to touch him, laying a hand in the small of Martin’s back.

‘Don’t look like that,’ he said. ‘I only meant that I’d have made you coffee if you wanted some. To tell the truth, I’m surprised to see you out of bed at all.’

‘I… I…’ Martin’s eyes were tightly shut; he trembled faintly under Douglas’ hand. ‘I woke up and felt okay, and so I thought–’ he paused to wet his lips, drawing a shaky breath, and Douglas bit his lip against the instinct to pick Martin up and carry him back to bed, ‘–I thought I’d just get up and have a look at my van, maybe see if I could fix whatever was wrong yesterday.’

‘Mmm.’ If Martin _really_ felt fine when he woke up then Douglas was the queen of Sheba; there was a damp spot on the seat of his pyjamas, and when Douglas ran a hand up the burning-hot skin of his back Martin lifted his chin and pushed back into it.

‘I didn’t make it,’ he explained needlessly, as Douglas gripped his nape. ‘I got out here and I couldn’t… I couldn’t go any further.’

‘I can see that,’ Douglas murmured. He slid his hand back down towards Martin’s arse, and he arched his back and groaned. He sounded so desperate that, finally, Douglas couldn’t hold back any longer and he stepped behind Martin, rubbing his back and trying to gentle him.

‘Don’t fight it,’ he said, and kissed Martin’s shoulder. ‘This will go a lot easier if you just relax and let it happen.’

‘Oh God.’

Douglas slid an arm around Martin’s waist and pulled him back, encouraging him to lean against Douglas’ body, and Martin gave a little gasp of relief as he complied.

‘There, that’s it,’ Douglas said, rubbing his cheek against Martin’s hair and wrapping his other arm around Martin’s chest. ‘That’s good, just like that.’

Martin clutched at the arms Douglas had wrapped around him, and rested his head back against Douglas’ shoulder.

‘Kiss me,’ Douglas said softly, splaying a hand low on Martin’s flat stomach, just above where his half-hard cock was pushing at his pyjama bottoms. ‘Let me take care of you.’

Martin turned in the circle of Douglas’ arms, wobbling a little on shaky legs, and tipped his face up for a kiss, a kiss that Douglas was only too happy to give him. He cupped a hand over the back of Martin’s head and kissed him, hard, until Martin was whimpering against his mouth.

‘I want you,’ Martin gasped, breaking away. ‘Oh God, I want you so much, fuck me, please, _now_ –’

‘I will,’ Douglas rumbled, pleasure thrilling through him at the noise of an omega – _his_ omega – desperate for his touch. ‘I will, hush now, I’m here.’

Martin kissed him again, almost biting at his mouth, and shoved his hands inside Douglas’ dressing gown.

‘Off,’ Martin panted. ‘Off, take this off, _now_ , I–’

‘Alright, alright, I will.’ Douglas let go of Martin and leaned back slightly, just enough for him to loosen the belt of his dressing gown, shrug it off, and toss it onto the kitchen counter. ‘There.’

Martin grabbed at him, dragging his nails down Douglas’ back as he rubbed his face feverishly against his chest, and Douglas smoothed his hands over Martin’s hips and muttered ‘Come on, let’s get you into bed.’

He started to walk Martin slowly towards the door, but Martin only managed a few steps before stopping dead, his knees almost folding beneath him, and shuddering as another wave gripped him.

‘I can’t,’ he groaned. ‘Oh God, I don’t think I can make it.’

He sounded almost distressed, and Douglas took a moment to curse Martin’s stubbornness before gripping him and bodily lifting him onto the kitchen table.

‘It’s alright,’ he said, rubbing Martin’s back soothingly as Martin clung to him. ‘We’ll do it here, then.’

‘What? I…’ Martin sounded dazed, but he planted his hands on the table and lifted his arse when Douglas tugged at his pyjama bottoms. ‘Here?’

‘Just to take the edge off,’ Douglas said roughly, yanking the fabric down over Martin’s ankles and feet, and bundling it out of the way. ‘God, look at you, you’re _soaking_ , I don’t know how you made it out here.’

Martin’s inner thighs were wet with fluid; Douglas planted a hand on his chest and nudged him, encouraging him to lean back, and Martin lay down on the table and brought his feet up to brace himself on the edge, exposing himself to Douglas’ view. The entire crack of his arse was slick and wet, and when Douglas pushed two fingers into him more leaked out of him.

‘Don’t tease,’ Martin said, pressing the heels of both hands to his forehead. ‘Don’t tease me, _please_ don’t.’

‘I’m not,’ Douglas said, smoothing his hand down Martin’s shivering stomach. ‘I’m not, I’m just making sure you’re okay. Here we go, then, now take a deep breath for me.’

Martin inhaled deeply, his chest rising, and Douglas reached down to take himself in hand and start to push into Martin, stopping when Martin cried out.

‘Alright?’ he asked, rubbing his palm roughly along one of the thighs that Martin had wrapped around his waist.

‘Yes.’ Martin was gripping his own hair tightly with one hand, almost pulling it, while the other skittered desperately along the edge of the table, searching for a handhold.

‘Sure?’ Douglas asked, catching Martin’s hand and squeezing it. ‘Not hurting you?’

‘No.’ Martin gave a hitching sob. ‘I think I’m about to come.’

‘Already?’ Douglas had barely got more than the head inside, but Martin’s spine was arching in a familiar way, his cock lying flushed and stiff on his belly.

‘Yes,’ Martin panted. ‘Oh God, yes.’

Douglas withdrew and rubbed the head back and forth over Marti’s hole, stimulating him until Martin flung his head back and his nails dug crescents into the back of Douglas’ hand, and when he pushed in again Martin cried out helplessly as he started to pulse around Douglas’ cock.

‘ _Christ_ ,’ Douglas snarled, and let go of Martin’s hand to grab his knees, spreading him wide so he could fuck into him through his orgasm.

Martin sobbed throughout it, seizing Douglas’ forearms in an iron grip while his cock spurted untouched onto his stomach, and Douglas thrust hard into him to force more noises from him, feeling Martin throbbing around him.

It seemed as though Martin was barely finished his first orgasm before he started winding up for his second. Douglas paused to give him a moment but ended up getting kicked back into movement by Martin’s heels against his ribs, and Martin hardly paused for breath before his cries began to get sharper and more piercing. Douglas’ hands tightened on his knees when he began to writhe.

‘Oh God,’ Martin moaned, craning his head back to bare the lovely long expanse of his throat as he rubbed his palms distractedly along Douglas’ forearms. ‘Oh God… oh God…’

He reached down to take his cock in hand and began working it in time with Douglas’ thrusts, his breath growing short.

‘Come on,’ Douglas growled, half-out of his mind with desire for Martin as he lay there shivering and touching himself. ‘Come on, do it, let me see you – _oh_.’

Martin went rigid, his eyes fluttering shut, and clenched his jaw as he came again. He was utterly silent this time, but when Douglas leaned forward to kiss him he made a broken noise.

‘Once more, I think,’ Douglas breathed, nuzzling the side of Martin’s face while he panted for breath. ‘Just to get you over the worst of it. And then I’ll take you to bed and knot you properly. Would you like that?’

‘Yes,’ gasped Martin, his legs twining themselves around Douglas’ waist to rest his heels in the small of his back. ‘Yes, oh yes, please, God…’

Douglas grunted his acknowledgement and started to move again. This time was slightly more difficult, simply because Martin wouldn’t let go of him. He wrapped his arms and legs around Douglas and clung to him when he tried to pull back and so Douglas stayed where he was, bracing his forearms on the table and kissing Martin over and over while he rocked into him.

After a while Martin began to whimper, helpless pleasure-noises spilling out of him with each of Douglas’ thrusts, and Douglas took his weight on one arm and reached down between them to curl his fingers around Martin’s cock and help him along. He pressed his mouth to Martin’s ear, whispering sweetly filthy things to him, and before long Martin quivered and gave a little mewling gasp as his cock throbbed, not producing anything as he fluttered and contracted around Douglas’ cock, and raked his nails down Douglas’ spine.

‘That’s it, shush, that’s it now, you’re alright,’ Douglas murmured to him, as Martin’s noises faded. Martin always sounded so _lost_ when he was pushed this far, as though he didn’t know where he was, and God but Douglas loved being the one to pet him and soothe him. At last Martin’s muscles loosened, his grip on Douglas relaxing, and Douglas buried his face in the crook of Martin’s neck and shoulder.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ Martin said, sounding lazy and sated. He stroked his hands down Douglas’ back, soothing the scratches his nails had made just moments before. ‘Tale me to bed.’

‘With pleasure,’ Douglas said fervently, and leaned up when Martin reluctantly let him go, catching his breath when the shift made him slide free of Martin.

He caught Martin’s hand and tugged him to sit up, cupping his hands over Martin’s shoulder blades when he leaned forward heavily against Douglas’ chest.

‘Bed,’ Martin insisted weakly, and Douglas agreed. Martin looked so limp and wrung-out already that Douglas pressed closer to him and murmured ‘Wrap your legs around my waist and hang on.’

Martin complied and Douglas slid his hands under Martin’s thighs and, with a grunt of effort, picked him up, walking carefully through to the bedroom as Martin buried his face in the side of Douglas’ neck and hung on. Martin was slight, but thanks to his van job then what there was of him was all muscle and Douglas was glad when he was able to deposit him gently on the mattress.

‘Do it,’ Martin said, rolling onto his front and pressing his face into the pillow. ‘Now, do it now.’

He parted his thighs eagerly and Douglas ran a quelling hand down his back.

‘Alright,’ he murmured, ‘just hang on.’

He climbed onto the bed beside Martin and lay down, pulling at Martin’s hip and encouraging him to roll onto his side so his back was pressed to Douglas’ chest, and shoving an arm under Martin’s ribs so he could hold him tight.

‘Ready?’ he asked, splaying a hand on Martin’s chest, and Martin nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said, one hand reaching up to cover Douglas’, while the other reached behind him to take hold of Douglas’ hip. ‘Yes, I’m ready, come on.’

‘Alright.’ Douglas nuzzled the side of Martin’s throat as he started to push in, wrapping his other arm around Martin’s waist to gentle him when Martin caught his breath.

Perhaps because this was only the second of Martin’s heats that Douglas had been present for, or perhaps because Martin had spent the past few days keeping his distance and stubbornly fighting his body’s need for Douglas’ proximity (or perhaps due to having to be polite while another alpha fussed over his omega); whatever the reason, Douglas felt as though he couldn’t be close enough to Martin. He hugged him tightly, and rubbed his face in Martin’s hair, and twined their fingers together, while Martin all but _purred_ under all the attention.

He fucked Martin slowly and unhurriedly, until Martin was hard again and his breathing had grown ragged, and he pushed Martin’s hand away when he tried to reach down to touch himself.

‘Mine,’ Douglas growled, breathless. ‘That’s mine, let me do it, let me take care of you.’

Martin sank back against him with a blissful moan, and Douglas took him in hand and stroked him until Martin came, giving a little half-sob as his legs tightened around the knee that Douglas had thrust between his thighs. Douglas followed soon after: the build-up had gone on long enough and he gritted his teeth, grabbed Martin’s hip, and thrust into him until his knot began to swell. He stilled instantly, not wanting to hurt Martin, and when the first wave of pleasure rippled through him he groaned and bit down on the back of Martin’s neck.

It was a primal gesture; Douglas had never done it with Martin before but Martin didn’t complain. On the contrary: he bowed his head and sighed with pleasure and covered Douglas’ hand on his hip with his own and so, this encouraged, Douglas pulled Martin tighter against him and did it again.

‘ _Mine_ ,’ he rumbled, his hands clutching greedily at whatever bit of Martin he could reach. ‘You’re mine, no-one else can have you.’

He could feel his thoughts starting to fracture and fall away as his body started winding up for its second orgasm, and he let go of Martin’s hip to take his hand, drawing it down between them and pressing his fingers against where they were joined.

‘God, feel what you do to me,’ he groaned. ‘You’re amazing, God, I’ve never… I don’t…’

He broke off, pressing his face against the back of Martin’s shoulder as he came, and when he lifted his head Martin had seized his hand and wound their fingers together and was muttering ‘Yours, yes, yours, of course. Why would I even _want_ anyone else?’

And Douglas could only kiss his hair and stroke his wrists and forearms as he held on.

***

Douglas knew that an omega’s first heat – or their first heat after a long break – was unpredictable, and could be something of a rollercoaster. For all that this one had arrived earlier than planned, he’d expected both of them to be slightly more prepared, but apparently not.

Martin was almost ridiculously clingy and demanding throughout. He tried to repress it at first, until Douglas noticed how anxious and fidgety it was making him and growled ‘For God’s sake, we’ve just _had_ this conversation about fighting your instincts. Now that’s enough,’ and from then on Martin wouldn’t be parted from him. The only way Douglas could make him shower was to get in with him, and wash him gently under the warm spray while Martin leaned exhaustedly against his chest.

(It wasn’t that Martin smelled _bad_. On the contrary, Douglas could barely stand not to be touching him but the salt from their combined fluids was starting to irritate Martin’s pale skin until it flushed red and sore.)

Martin had worn himself out with his stubborn refusal to rest and let Douglas look after him in the run-up to his heat; he was tired and fretful by mid-afternoon on the first day, but refused to stay in bed and sleep while Douglas prepared sandwiches and tea. Finally Douglas ended up bundling him up in blankets and carrying him through to stretch out on the sofa, where Martin could see into the kitchen and watch Douglas with sleepy eyes until he dozed off.

Douglas couldn’t fault Martin, because the truth was that he felt the same. It was strange, he hadn’t felt this jealously possessive of his omega since the very first one he’d been with, and it wasn’t until halfway through the second day that he worked it out.

‘I didn’t like that alpha sniffing around you the other day,’ he murmured to Martin, when they were cuddled up in bed with Martin half-asleep on Douglas’ chest, in response to Martin’s drowsy observation that he didn’t remember Douglas being this attentive last time.

Martin made a sleepily interrogative noise; Douglas didn’t reply, not wanting to disturb him, but Martin stirred and nudged Douglas.

‘What d’you mean?’ he said, sounding more awake, and Douglas sighed as he carded his fingers through Martin’s sweaty hair.

‘You’re _mine_ ’, he said, trying and failing not to let his voice sink to a jealous growl. ‘I could see her sniffing around you, with you just about to go into heat, and it… it…’

He could feel the ball of anger rising in his throat and swallowed it back. No sense in getting worked up over it now, when Martin was safe in Douglas’ bed and his arms, but Martin shifted to rub his palm over Douglas’ stomach.

‘I’m yours,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t want anyone else. I could _never_ , not when I have you.’

In lieu of a response, Douglas captured Martin’s hand and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss, saying only ‘Sleep now. You must be tired.’

‘You’re so good to me,’ Martin told him, half-asleep again. ‘I’ve wanted you for years, even back when you thought I was still an alpha, and now I have you… You’re lovely to me.’

‘Sleep.’ Douglas ordered him gruffly, as he cupped Martin’s nape and massaged the tension there.

He didn’t know what Martin’s life had been like before he joined MJN but Martin was so grimly self-sufficient and determined to make his own way in the world that it filled Douglas with a vague, directionless anger at the world.

And so when Martin awoke, pushing restlessly against Douglas’ thigh, Douglas tipped him onto his back and made love to him as slowly and tenderly as he could manage, murmuring loving praise to him in between kisses and fucking him with such care that Martin was clinging to Douglas by the end as though he was the only thing left in the world.

***

By the third day Martin was exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes from lack of rest, but too wound up to sleep. Douglas tried to make him nap – the urge to take care of Martin overcoming even the urge to fuck him, and rub his scent all over Martin in an unmistakable claim – but Martin wouldn’t. Douglas fucked him as often as he could physically manage and then, when he hit the limit of what he could do without a break, he got out the plug he had bought for Martin’s last heat. He went to run it under the warm tap in the bathroom, leaving Martin fidgeting in bed, and on his return Douglas pushed it gently into Martin and wrapped him up in his arms, holding him still until Martin succumbed to a fitful doze.

Douglas coaxed him through the shower again, keeping the water only just lukewarm on Martin’s flushed, overheated skin, and when they got out he barely had a chance to pat Martin’s skin dry before Martin was twining himself around him, nuzzling the side of Douglas’ throat as he silently asked Douglas to forgo the tea and toast he’d planned and come back to bed.

As always, Douglas couldn’t say no to him. They went back to bed but, while Martin was eager to go again, Douglas found that he just couldn’t, his body demanding a break in no uncertain terms. So he slid down the bed, rucked Martin’s thighs over his shoulder, and went down on him, shoving Martin’s hips up brusquely so he could dip down low enough to lap at his hole, while Martin pulsed and fluttered against his tongue, and sobbed his pleasure at the ceiling as he came and came.

Much later, when it was late enough that Douglas’ muscles were starting to ache with tiredness and Martin looked wild-haired and half-out of his mind, Douglas took Martin in his mouth. Martin was a wreck: face flushed and eyelids heavy, and sore enough by this point that he flinched from Douglas’ hand on him but clung to Douglas when he tried to draw back. So Douglas guided Martin’s cock into his mouth, making everything soft and wet as he possibly could, letting Martin whimper and thrust and rubbing soothingly at his stomach until he shivered and came.

Douglas slid up the bed afterwards, and at the discovery that Martin had fallen asleep after his orgasm he let himself collapse against the pillows, relieved as much for his own sake as for Martin’s. He made a vague effort to tug the covers up over Martin and stayed awake only long enough to fling an arm over him before following him into sleep.

***

Douglas slept late the next morning. Full daylight was already streaming through the curtains when he awoke and Martin was burrowed against his chest, face screwed up in an attempt to cling to the last vestiges of sleep. Douglas shifted slightly and groaned. All his muscles were sore, as though… well, as though he’d been shut up in the bedroom shagging himself stupid for three days straight. Martin moaned a little in response to Douglas’ movement, starting to wake, and Douglas worked a hand between them to lay his palm against Martin’s face. It was difficult to tell, since they were both wrapped in the duvet, but Martin felt notably cooler than yesterday and Douglas sighed in relief.

‘I think that’s it,’ he murmured, as Martin stirred and blinked.

‘I should bloody well hope so,’ Martin slurred, knuckling at his eyes. ‘God, I’m so tired. And so sore.’

Despite his own body’s protests, Douglas moved instinctively. ‘Let me up, I’ll fetch you something and you can–’

Martin grunted, tightening his arm around Douglas. ‘Not yet. Stay.’

The first morning after his previous heat Martin had been delightfully tactile, seeming to draw more reassurance from just lying in Douglas’ arms than from Douglas getting up to see to his needs, as would have been proper. Douglas had thought such a preference might just be a side-effect of it being Martin’s first heat after a long break but apparently not, and so he rolled onto his back and gently drew Martin closer, settling him more comfortably.

It was marvellous to lie entwined without any of the urgency of the past three days; Martin’s breath ghosted softly over Douglas’ collarbone and Douglas stroked his hair while Martin faded in and out of sleep for a while longer. Martin couldn’t possibly be comfortable, given all their strenuous exertion of the past few days, but he had the highest tolerance for discomfort of any omega Douglas had ever met – or any alpha, for that matter.

Eventually, however, instinct became too hard to ignore, and when Martin’s stomach growled Douglas stirred in earnest. Martin protested drowsily but Douglas hushed him, murmuring ‘It would make me feel an awful lot better if you’d just let me do this,’ and eventually Martin consented to unlatch himself from Douglas and let him go.

Douglas took a quick shower before running a bath for Martin, bringing him tea to drink while he lingered in there, and while Martin was in the bath he made breakfast. He hadn’t thought that he was behaving any differently from how he usually would with any other omega after their heat, but when Martin walked into the kitchen – dressed in the clean T-shirt and pyjama bottoms that Douglas had taken into the bathroom – his eyebrows climbed towards his hairline and he said ‘Bloody hell.’

Douglas went to him, kissing his cheek and drawing him towards the table to sit down, and at Martin’s exclamation he paused. ‘What?’

‘I… well.’ Martin sat down, but instead of pulling his chair in he turned, reaching for Douglas and drawing him in so Douglas was standing between his knees. He wrapped his arms around Douglas’ hips, and looked up into his face. ‘You really didn’t like me being around other alphas that close to my heat, did you?’

Douglas pushed Martin’s damp hair back off his forehead, and cupped his cheek in one hand as he temporised ‘What makes you say that?’

It was perfectly true, of course, but Douglas flattered himself that he was usually fairly opaque in showing his feelings.

Martin laughed.

‘There’s so much _food_ ,’ he said, looking at the breakfast plates sitting ready on the counter, ‘and you’ve been fussing over me all morning. And you were different during… you know. More…territorial.’

Martin cheeks pinked, but his arms tightened when Douglas tried to draw back, disconcerted at being read so easily.

‘I didn’t say I didn’t _like_ it,’ Martin said, faintly pleading, and Douglas relaxed and drew him close again. ‘But all the same. I won’t do it again.’

Douglas bit his lip as he stroked a thumb over Martin’s cheekbone. He’d always prided himself on being a liberal, forward-thinking man, not like those Victorian-minded alphas who wanted their word to be law to their omegas, and who disliked them even having casual acquaintances who were alphas. But even so…

‘I’m not about to dictate to you what you can and can’t do,’ he murmured, his heart swelling when Martin turned his head to nuzzle into his palm. ‘But all the same. If we could avoid a repetition then that would be marvellous.’

‘I think that won’t be a problem,’ Martin said, leaning in to rest his cheek against Douglas’ stomach. ‘I felt completely rotten during the whole job, and all I wanted was for her to stop asking me if I was okay so we could go home.’

Douglas’ stomach clenched protectively, but aloud he only said ‘Well, I’m not surprised. You were just hours away from your heat, it’s no wonder you felt dreadful. By all rights you should have been at home, lazing about on the sofa and letting your alpha bring you cups of tea.’

Martin tipped his head back to smile up at Douglas, and he continued: ‘You’re the most extraordinary omega I’ve ever met, and what you’ve achieved is remarkable. But, every now an then, it won’t hurt you to listen to your body.’

‘Alright,’ Martin said softly, and Douglas leaned down for a kiss before Martin’s stomach rumbled loudly.

‘Case in point,’ he said, standing and freeing himself gently. ‘Breakfast.’

***

It eased something in Douglas to sit opposite Martin and watch him eat, wolfing down bacon and eggs and toast and making only minimal protest when Douglas stopped eating and got up to fetch Martin seconds.

‘And don’t worry,’ Douglas said over his shoulder, to distract Martin from the protest that he could see hovering on the tip of his tongue, ‘I gave the table a good scrubbing, given what happened on it just a few days ago.’

Martin flushed scarlet up to his hairline, and Douglas grinned to himself as he brought Martin’s plate over.

Afterwards, Douglas piled all the washing up by the sink and pulled Martin firmly towards the sofa when he made a vague move towards the pile of dishes.

‘Leave them,’ he said and Martin, for a wonder, complied without argument and let Douglas herd him over to the sofa and settle him onto it.

It was a glorious sight to see Martin, heavy-eyed and sated with food and sex, curling up on the sofa while Douglas made mugs of tea and accepting it as his due when Douglas brought it over to him, no hint of getting up to make it himself. Douglas paused to put on a Bond film before sitting next to Martin on the sofa.

‘God, he’s such an alpha cliché,’ Martin grumbled as the opening credits rolled, setting his tea aside and pushing Douglas to lie down on the sofa so that Martin could lie half-on top of him.

‘Mmm,’ Douglas said vaguely, too quietly delighted at Martin manhandling him and pushing him around with casual confidence to come up with a valid retort. He lay down willingly, and hugged Martin close when he settled against him, rubbing his nose through Martin’s hair.

‘You know,’ Martin said sometime later, while Bond was being briefed on his mission, ‘you’re not like I thought alphas would be. You’re wonderful.’

He sounded drowsy and on the verge of sleep, and Douglas twitched the throw down off the back of the sofa and over Martin’s lower half. The afternoon sunlight was coming in through the window, making Martin’s hair glow red-gold where a stray beam caught it; it contrasted with his pale skin to give him the air of a classical painting, and Douglas reflected that no-one would ever guess at the will of iron hidden beneath the unassuming surface.

‘And you’re not like any omega I’ve ever met before,’ he said softly, pushing his fingers through Martin’s wild curls and listening to his sleepy moan of pleasure, ‘but I’d like to keep you anyway, if you’ll have me.’

Martin was more asleep than awake and didn’t respond. However, looking at the way his touch brought an unconscious smile to Martin’s face, Douglas thought he knew what the answer was.

 

**End**


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